


Freedom

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Inktober for Writers 2017 [27]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-25 04:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12523436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: There are cages that are literal and metaphorical.  Sometimes, the metaphorical ones are worse.





	Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt 27 of Inktober for Writers: Cage

As agents, Napoleon and Illya had found themselves in all sorts of cages—some literal, and some metaphorical. Illya often found that the literal cages were often the easiest to escape from—a picked lock here, an explosive there… After all these years, literal cages were an easy challenge.

Metaphorical cages were harder—largely because you often tended to build those ones yourself.

Illya had constructed his own cage when he was very young, orphaned in the war and distrusting of everyone he came across for years. His reputation had only added more locks to the cage—and though it was designed to protect him, it was a lonely cage. Though he had yearned to escape, he had found it impossible to get close to anyone—to someone who could have let him out.

But then he met Napoleon. And it wasn’t long before his partner warmed his heart and opened the door of his cage. Illya didn’t realize just how starved of love and affection he had been.

And Napoleon was everything Illya could have wanted—a loyal companion, a trusted coworker, and the most affectionate lover he could have ever hoped to have. Illya had everything he could have wanted, including a key that let him out of his cage whenever he needed it.

It was only as Illya got to know him better that he realized Napoleon was trapped in a cage of his own—always being told by Waverly to charm someone for information or for help, always expected to be “on” all the time, always being hounded for attention from those who thought of him either as a pretty face or as someone who could help them get to high points in the agency, and always getting unwanted attention, even during the times when it was late and he just wanted nothing more than to go home.

Napoleon let himself be imprisoned in this cage, much like how Illya had let himself be imprisoned in his, and Illya had a sneaking suspicion that it was a cage that Napoleon had constructed during his younger years, much like Illya had done. Napoleon would always stop and give people the attention they sought—to a degree, of course—and it seemed he had been that way even as a schoolkid, since it was a way to ensure that he would be well-liked among his peers.

It certainly made Napoleon popular now—too popular, as Illya often assessed. And it certainly grated on Illya’s nerves to see people continuing to pester Napoleon for attention, even when it was clear to even the most casual observer that Napoleon was tired after a long day. People treated Napoleon as though he had an endless source of energy, but Napoleon was human.

Illya always did his best—once Napoleon was finally home, Illya would make him comfortable as they both sought refuge beneath the blankets on their bed, and he could feel Napoleon relax at last in his embrace. And Illya knew that it meant that Napoleon had, at last, made it out of his cage.

Napoleon would also do his best to reciprocate, making sure that Illya felt warm and safe and loved.

And for that moment—for those few, precious hours that they had to themselves—they were both free from their cages. The troubles of the world were temporarily off of their minds, and their entire world was just each other.

They cherished each escape, no matter how long it lasted—and, most of all, they cherished each other.


End file.
